Something Stupid

well, that is what this journal entry is....

i need to do something stupid once in a while to keep my brains in
good condition......

you know, you should try that too...... it really helps to give some
rest to your poor brain cells.

no really!! it is like party time for your over worked brain....

it can do whatever it wants,

play music at top notch volume, eat a hell a load of junk, see some
stupid movie and laugh itself silly over it, get totally drunk and
talk bullshit in high spirits, drunk call people and laugh as they go
up the wall, then take a book and try to read it and find that the
words are dancing all over the page, then getting tired of the jumping
letters, go over to the window and wonder at something silly, then
remember some long forgotten day from the golden days of childhood,
remember all the fun it had been and how close it felt to everyone....
no let downs, no backstabbing, no bitching, no heart breaks, just pure
fun and life!!!!, then start questioning where those days have
vanished, then weep drunkenly for those times, then see a baloon
floating around outside the window and giggle at it, and then sit up
with a start when it giggles back and sticks it's tongue out, then
feel a little thirsty and go for another drink, see three glasses of
vodka on the bar top, try to seize one and it dances out of reach.....
Damn!! try of the other.....Damn it!!! wonder who made these dancing
glasses and curse them.... then try for the third and it comes
readily.... take a thirsty gulp of the much awaited liquid, then hear
a voice coming from the bed room, like a soft cajoling call, go in to
find out who's gotten in there in the dead of the night, find no one
there but the bed, but the bed seems to be talking, it says it's been
lonely all day and wants company..'you mind??', then go and sit with
the bed on the floor and hear it talk about how boring it is to be a
bed, sympathise wih it, then tell it how lucky it is it never has to
face life, that it never has to nurse a broken heart or back stabbs,
tell it that it has a really nice life, safe and secure, well clothed
with a satin sheet, then it says that it can't get drunk, so just to
prove it wrong go and get two vodkas, offer one to the bed, it says it
dosen't have hands, so feed the bed some vodka, feel good about doing
a favor for the poor handless bed who's never been drunk before, hear
the bed giggle drunkenly, hear it say 'thank.....u...' and drift into
a slumber, smile and watch the sleeping bed, cuddle up to the bed as
best as possible, and sing it a lullaby just in case it stirs, and
then watch as someone comes and asks you to sleep on the bed, not
below it, tell them to talk softly, the bed is sleeping, they help you
to get up, bump your head....ouch!! then lay down on the sleeping bed,
slowly, in case you wake it , then feel a soft blanket fall on you,
the blanket wispers...'one hell of a head ache is gonna wish you in
the morning n u gonna need a truck load of coffee..... sleep now....
good night...', feel the blanket cuddle up to you, feel nice to be
sleeping with the bed and blanket for company.....and sleep it out
till normalcy returns like a sore head ache in the morning.........

ah well,

told you.....

something stupid.......

Poetry

Poetry is not the juice of a fruit,
that on squeezing it must flow.
It is like a little feather,
it’ll fly, when the winds blow.

Poetry is not for the genius alone,
or only for the ones who write,
She lives in every beating, feeling heart,
she is every living soul’s right.

Poetry is not only the words,
written on paper with ink.
It is that collection of thoughts,
that you think when you don’t think.

Poetry is not just a nib,
scratching away on paper.
It springs forth from the heart,
and reaches much deeper.

Poetry is not just a string of lines,
entwined in a touching scheme.
It is the language of the heart,
to share it’s unspoken dream.

Poetry is not a ladder or crutch,
with which you reach the top.
She is the one, who stays with you,
no matter if you rise or drop.

A poetry and a poetry alone,
can tell you what a poetry is.
If you liked and understood what you just read,
well, then a little poetry this is!!
~~Maithili desai

I Wish...

To play and run with me,
To help me climb trees,
Oh! I need for me a brother,
Who’ll bandage my skinned knees.

To encourage, boost and praise me,
Whenever I feel low,
Oh, I really need a brother,
To help me learn to grow.

Oh, I really want a brother,
Oh, I do, with all my heart,
To be my sun in stormy skies,
And tear the dark apart.

To assure and pacify me,
That the world is on our side,
I do so want a brother,
From I have nothing to hide.

To be strong and wise and helpful,
When my world is falling apart,
I wish I had a brother,
To hold me to his heart.

Someone I can lean on,
When my feet seem to give way,
When there is no trace of light,
And the dark looks ‘here-to-stay’

With me, to watch a rainbow,
When the storms are all over,
I long for an elder brother,
To be my lucky clover.
--Maithili Desai